Archie's Trial
by Rubinia
Summary: Warning! Possible spoilers to Heroes II Succession Wars and possibly some other Heroes past fourth. Orchestral.


"Archibald, son of the King Ironfist the First of the Dynasty, you are accused of numerous crimes. The most wicked among them are: the murder of royal seers; the false accusation against your brother Roland, the son of the King Ironfist the Dynasty Founder; the millitary agression against peacefull Barbarian tribes on the East; the crime of manslaughter on elders, women and children of Dwarven Kingdom; the inpirsoning of Noble Dragon King, The Green; the unmerciful allowance of Necromancy Guild practitioniers' organised slaughter of civilian peasants; the criminal threats usage against your brother Roland, the True King, including promises of beheading and staking.

We praise valor and devotion of your brother our king Roland Ironfist. Was it not his virtues we would be pitiful subjects of your unjust rule. We doubt not your cruelty and pride would bring on your head further and worse crimes.  
All these devious deeds are to be punished. The accusator asks for the capital punishment suitable for man of royal blood: beheading with sharp royal sword of Ironfist Dynasty."

The speaker finished and sat down. The trial chamber was full of creatures from near and far. Dragon, huge and horny, with visibly greyish scales, roared pitch hight. Dwarves Council caressed their beards in dignificant expression of noble wrath. The lone warrior wearing bear fur held still and pefectly mimmicked a man turned alive in stone.

There was noone willing to act as official defender of the trialed. Archibald rose from his sit on the accused's side of the chamber.

"Your Honour. I actually have been sentenced in the matter the noble Court described in so evocive details." - the Usurper said, emphasising the speech with accurate gestrue of sygnets-adorned hand.  
"I cannot be rightfully punished for the same crime twice. That'd be a mockery of justice." he reasoned with perfect voice modulation, but not a trace of deeper emotional involvement towards the subject.

Catherine's eyes shone fiercely with quite the opposite state of feelings.

"You, of all people, speak of justice!" she scorned spitfull, laying clenched fists on the table and leaning over it.

Roland touched her elbow and spoke to her softly in undertone.

"I do." Archibald answered simply, meeting her gaze.  
"It is all about justice over me." he put a bit more pressure on the last word.

Catherine snarled with irritation.

"We have much against you. Since you were set free..."

"By your son, prince Nicolas." Archibald interrupted with due respect and slightest implication of mockery.

"Silence! Since then you usurped the Deyan throne and constructed a vile plot against prosperity of our Kingdom. You will hang."

"To be most accurate, Catherine, I'd rather call the course of my actions as in favour of Kingdom welfare. Necromancers always have been a threat, haven't they? Led by a born of the Dynasty became significantly... friendlier." said Archibald hesistantlessly.

* * *

Old warrior who held a honoured seat upon right hand of king Roland and was mostly drowsing during the cours of the trial now opened eyes abruptly. He was most skillful field marshal in his glorious days. His major role in the Succession Wars outcome was undenyable.

He opened eyes widely and even wildly as the memory struck him. Archibald the Usurper whom the old marshal called the King in long forgotten first years of the rebellion has not changed a bit. Voice from the past spoke in present. Marshal doubted he could be himself a challenge to considerably younger man of fresh mind, whose youth conserved in stone never withered.

"Punishment for usurpers is death!" stated the old marshal aloud. He brought attention of just about everyone.

Archibald was to recover composture, considerably quicker than the royal couple.

"The legal issues of Deyan succession is Deyan internal matter only. Noone but Deyans have right to solve it as they see fit. I'd advice against applying Kingdom laws in Deya legislation, which is sure to result in diplomacy lapsus."  
Archibald glared at marshal a second longer, a dark spark of realisation lit in accused's eyes.

"Brother. You try to make us believe you were in fact benevolent? It is far from accurate!" - king Roland interrupted.  
"We may wish to grand your plea and give you in the hands of Deyan rulers. Is that what you seek?" he implied.

Archibald glanced at the fair, true, acknowledged king with regard.  
"Only if you call it just, brother. Let me recall where were you the moment I found you."

Roland rised, both angry and confused.  
"It was what you want I was asking." he said in his noble tone that always gets on nerve, at least old marshal's.

Archibald shifted a bit with new-found dignity.  
"Shall the will of accussed be honoured in just trial? Doubtfully. You've gotten soft, Roland, in lady's hand." Archibald answered. Murmours and shouts of displeasure rose from audience sits. Queen Catherine clenched white teeth.

"I announce break. We shall gather in one hour." she decided in her steely, hardy, clear yet a bit tired voice.

* * *

Armsmen in shining plates gathered around Archibald. Queen and the king marched out the chamber, heading to the garden. High guests (Dwarves most notable among them) defiladed past accused's sit piercing him with vengeful eyes. Others, less bloodthirsty, walked out main doors. Many chatted in pairs or small groups. One ten years old boy slipped inside and peered at the guarded nobleman.

"Uncle Archie... I'm sorry! I got you into troubles by un-stone-ing you!" he whispered.

The crime-accused went stone-still. Then turned to look at the young boy with bright, desperately hopefull smile.

"Would you testify that, Nick? To tell that in front of everyone so they may hear?"


End file.
